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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28367193">With a bit of help</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee'>Banashee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo ROUND 2 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Humor, Avengers Tower, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Light Angst, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sensory Overload, Team Bonding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:02:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28367193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As it turns out, New York in 2012 is one hell of a lot louder and busier than in 1942. For Steve, whose senses are now enchanted, thanks to the serum, it is an unexpected challenge.<br/>-<br/>Bad Things Happen Bingo<br/>Square 5/25: Sensory Overload</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers &amp; Avengers Team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo ROUND 2 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>With a bit of help</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Bad Things Happen Bingo - Round 2!<br/>Originally, I had this aaaall planned out as a NaNoWriMo project, but I decited to scrap that. Instead, I'll just write little snippets for each prompt and safe the larger ideas for another time. I'll write them - one day...<br/>*Looks at giant pile of unfinished ideads and projects*<br/>*nervous laughter dissolving into desperate sobbing*<br/>-</p><p>    As always, I'm crossposting these stories on my Tumblr.<br/>https://banashee.tumblr.com/</p><p>    You can get your own Bingo Card over at<br/>https://badthingshappenbingo.tumblr.com/</p><p> </p><p>    The cover for this fic was made with a free to use photo from unsplash</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <strong>With a bit of help</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Steve doesn’t run, but he very much wants to. His steps are wide and just quick enough so he can move as fast as humanly possible without making himself any more noticable. Walking quick won’t make him stand out in a busy street, but running would probably earn him some looks. It’s the last thing he wants right now.</p><p>There is so much noise around here - chaotic traffic with honking cars and loud motors, people chatting, yelling, laughing. Somewhere, a toddler is crying. Phones are ringing left and right and people are shouting back into it. </p><p> </p><p>The noise on it’s own would be bad enough, but there are so many neon lights, and so many different smells - Steve wants to rip his own head off and bury it in cotton, so he doesn’t have to see or hear any more of it. It’s too much.</p><p>Sometime, in the 70 years he was asleep in the ice, the world got really fucking loud. It’s close to unbearable, but how do you even begin to explain that?</p><p> </p><p>Luckily, it doesn’t take long for him to reach the SHIELD facility near Times Square. The street itself is one of his own personal nightmares. Steve isn’t sure if the reason for that is his less than pleasant awakening in the 21st century and the memories with this particular place, or if it is due to the fact that it is even brighter with flashing lights and video commercials here.   </p><p>In any case, he is happy when he enters the sleek glass building. It’s busy, too, but not nearly as bad as outside.</p><p>He smiles politely without really making eye contact at the people he crosses on the way back to his quarters. Once the door falls shut behind him, it’s like he deflates entirely. His hands are shaking, Steve notices, and he drops his bag onto the floor, next to his brand new, unused combat boots that they gave him. He didn’t have a mission yet - he’s itching for it, but at the same time isn’t sure what will be expected of him.</p><p>With heavy limbs, feet dragging over the floor, Steve makes his way to the bed in the corner and collapses onto it. </p><p> </p><p>His ears are still ringing, his heart is still racing, and all he wants is just a moment of peace and quiet. Even the ticking of the clock sounds deafening to him, and he knows exactly what is happening in the rooms nearby.</p><p>SHIELD barracks have paper thin walls, and his enchanted senses don’t help. In the room next to him, somebody is playing a video game. The gunshots and explosions are fake and Steve knows it, but he can’t help but flinch at the noise every time. It’s too much.</p><p>Another room over, someone is having a heated but one sided argument - over the telephone, probably, if he had to guess.</p><p>Across from him, it sounds like there are two people and - oh. Oh hell no. He really doesn’t want to listen to that, it would be incredibly rude. </p><p> </p><p>In an act of desperation, Steve crawls out of bed again and makes himself a pair of makeshift ear plugs out of toilet paper, then he buries his head under the pillow. </p><p>He is shaking violently by now, wishing the world would be just a little bit calmer. It’s still so new, and he feels incredibly stupid, but he is absolutely overwhelmed with everything. </p><p>
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</p><p>There is a name for it, he learns later. Sensory Overload. </p><p>That’s what he gets from typing “Why am I overwhelmed from noise, people and lights?” into the Google Thingy, and it makes a lot of sense. Unlucky for him, the only suggestion he can really find is to remove himself from the stressful environment, which is not always possible. Besides, he highly doubts that the articles he has been reading have taken a guy from the 40s who woke up in 2012 just a few weeks ago into account. His case is, admittedly, quite unique. </p><p>“Quite Unique”, he knows, also means that getting help for The Thing is hard.</p><p>Steve makes do with whatever he can, but it’s draining. Oftentimes, he’ll find himself collapsing into bed after a day around people, unable to stop shaking. The thing they gave him for alerts keeps beeping sometimes, even after hours, and he barely resists the urge to “accidentally” step on it one of these days. </p><p> </p><p>Then, aliens attack New York, and his life changes once again. He’s got a team now, even though their start was admittedly messy and his own attitude not the best. </p><p>He has a chat with Stark, later, and they shake hands. Steve is not sure he’d call him or the others  “friends” at this point, but “friendly” for sure, and he trusts every single one of them. This has to be enough for now.</p><p>Steve leaves the point of departure with a bag full of clothes on the back of his motorcycle and a mobile phone with a few numbers programmed into it. He isn’t sure if he’ll use it, but he figures it might be useful. Besides, they tell him that phone booths aren’t really a thing anymore, so better not rely on them. </p><p> </p><p>Steve intends to go see the country for a bit, drive wherever he sees fit at the moment. </p><p>His plan to see the cities largely fails - much like New York, there is too much stress, too much noise. Steve can’t relax in any of those places, so he gives up and makes his way into much more rural areas. </p><p>Back in the day, when he was with the army, he traveled the world, but he never managed to enjoy the sights, for obvious reasons. Now, he’s got all the time in the world to go watch the stars in a field where no light pollutes the air. He walks on a beach for the first time in ages, letting the feeling of water and sand around his feet wash over him.</p><p>Luckily, he manages to grab a small, portable photo camera in a tourist shop. It’s a cheap, easy to use thing which he can deal with. There is a camera on his telephone, Stark said, but that doesn’t really seem necessary to him. He didn’t use the phone, but he keeps it charged - just in case. </p><p> </p><p>Two weeks after he left New York, his phone rings. The damn thing makes him jump and almost crash his motorcycle into a tree. </p><p>Cursing, he pulls over to the side and fumbles it to answer. The sound of it ringing grinds his gears, and it takes every ounce of self control not to snap at whoever is at the other end.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Steve, hi. This is Natasha. Where are you right now?”</p><p>“Oh, hey. I’m in Georgia right now - why? Am I needed back?”</p><p>“We have a situation - sorry to interrupt your road trip. Can you please keep your phone on and wait at the nearest point accessible for the jet? We’ll pick you up on the way.”</p><p>“Yes, of course. You will be able to find me?”</p><p>“Already did.” it sounds like she’s smiling. “See you in about two hours, possibly sooner”</p><p> </p><p>When the jet sets down on an empty space of land, the ramp extends and Steve drives up there. The door closes behind him, and he is greeted by his team, already suited up. Thankfully, they brought his gear and his shield. </p><p> </p><p>The situation is messy and so is the fight they have to take part in, but all of them return to New York in one piece - small favors. </p><p>When the jet settles down on the roof of the tower, it does so with little grace. A string of very colorful curses emerges from the cockpit, where Barton is ranting about shitty robots shooting at them and wheels that spontaneously fall off in the middle of landing, but other than that, they’re  fine. </p><p>Internally, Steve has to agree with him, but externally, he keeps on a brave face. He refuses to lose it over this, although he very much would like to join in on banging his head against hard surfaces. Unfortunately, it’s just a bad look on a leader, so he remains calm. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as he steps out of the jet, the noises of the city drill into his brain, and it takes a lot of self control not to cringe at it. He’d gotten used to the peace and quiet of the countrysides, and even though he’d known it wouldn’t last forever, he already finds himself missing it. </p><p>Thankfully, the inside of the tower is a lot more bearable. The walls must be thick and at least somewhat soundproof. It makes it easier to relax, and although the debrief takes a lot out of them all, they’re glad to be back.</p><p>Before they shuffle off into different rooms to sleep off the last mission, Tony stops him on the way.</p><p>“Oh hey, before you walk off - let me know if you’ll need anything specific, the apartments are in planning.”</p><p>Steve blinks. “Apartments?”</p><p>“Yeah. Here, for everyone. Didn’t I tell you?”</p><p>“Uh, no?”</p><p>“Oh. Here you go, then. We’ll move everyone in here and I need to know if you have any specific preferences. Layout, accommodations, furniture whatever. You can tell JARVIS, too, if you’d rather.”</p><p>Before he can ask anything else or even say “thank you”, Tony has disappeared, leaving Steve standing there like he just got rolled over by a train. To be fair, this is the kinda feeling that most people have after talking to Tony when they’re not used to him, and Steve has been away for a while. </p><p>He mulls over this on his way to a guest room. JARVIS is kind enough to explain the plans in more detail, which helps a lot because “Hey so, you’ll move in here for free, let me know if you want any stuff” is not what he expected to hear once he got back. </p><p>Truth be told, it feels kind of weird and overwhelming, so he decides to shower, sleep and think about anything else later. </p><p> </p><p>As it turns out, the walls are soundproof in here - Steve falls asleep and wakes up in total silence, and he sighs in relief. Maybe, moving here wouldn’t be such a bad idea, especially since the tower is a lot more private and convenient than SHIELD barracks. </p><p>When he makes his way to the kitchen for breakfast, there are voices and the clattering of plates, sizzling from the stove and gurgling off the coffee machine. His ears can pick up every single noise, but unlike the traffic on the streets or neighbours back at SHIELD, it’s not uncomfortable now that he is well rested and, most of all, got a break.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, living here isn’t a bad idea. It’s an opportunity to get closer to the team, especially since everyone else will be around as well. So, Steve enters the kitchen to share breakfast with the other Avengers. </p><p>He’ll figure out the rest. </p><p> </p><p>*+~</p><p> </p><p>Square 5/25: Sensory Overload</p>
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